that's the one place we both know
by OCP
Summary: James persuades Kendall into some bathroom fun. High rating, slash content. Seriously, no children should peek in here. Further warnings inside.


title; that's the one place we both know  
author; ocp  
rating; mature  
warnings; explicit bathroom sex. also, the boys are technically sixteen, but in minnesota they would be of legal consent age!  
author notes; i can't believe that my first fic since 2006 is big time rush smut. ah well. i'll take what my lazy muse gives me. i'm pretty rusty, but i had a few folks look over it (thanks, bigfan4242!) and say it's worth posting. also, if you take the time to read it, i'd love any kind feedback! cross-posted around.  
disclaimer: so very much disclaimed.

"James, we can't - oh god," Kendall pauses to moan, his fingers curling around the edges of James' hair, even though the very miniscule part left of his logic knows he shouldn't even be _looking_ at James' hair the wrong way, much less fondling it, because they have to meet a whole bunch of important people still, and _everyone_ will be able to tell that James Diamond doesn't have his hair perfect for a reason, and -

James pulls his mouth away with a soft, dirty sound. "Shh, you're thinking too loud," he says quietly and proceeds to _nuzzle _Kendall's dick. A small bit of precome smudges over James' cheekbone, and that's...fucking hot, really, and James just leers up at him, like he's daring Kendall to say no.

Kendall makes a frustrated noise. "You're playing so unfair, it's ridiculous," he tells him, and James just shrugs and tilts back to start flicking his tongue against Kendall's cock, once and then twice and then more, and the more he keeps doing, the more Kendall feels the edges of his mind beginning to fray.

"Jesus, James. We're in Griffin's mansion, and there are people downstairs that could make us famous. We can't just," he has to stop to swallow dryly as James takes most of Kendall into his mouth because James might be talented in singing and dancing, but in Kendall's own appreciative opinion, James should be in the Olympics of blowjobs, "We can't just fool around in the bathroom."

For a while James doesn't respond, keeps going at Kendall's dick, practically swallowing it, and if it's a ploy to get Kendall to agree, it's totally working. Kendall is about ready to shut the fuck up and lean against the wall, when abruptly James pulls off and stands up, beginning to smooth out his suit. "Okay then, I'll see you out there," James smiles easily and starts heading for the door.

It's comforting to know his reaction speed hasn't slowed since giving up hockey. He manages to snatch James' wrist and slam him into the full length mirror. James starts laughing. Kendall kind of wants to sock him in the arm but doesn't want to hurt his chances of James getting back on his knees. "You are an asshole, you know," Kendall says seriously instead, wrapping his hands around James' neck and then pulling him into a kiss.

He doesn't mean for it to be any more than a quick, you're-cute-but-terrible-for-my-blood-pressure kiss, but James opens his mouth into it, slings one leg around Kendall's waist, and it's kind of just lost from there. Kendall loves kissing James, loves the taste of his mouth (peppermint and chapstick) and what he can do with his tongue, so unsurprisingly he starts losing himself in it, starts rocking his hips into James' as they both get a little more desperate.

"Fuck," Kendall whispers hoarsely when he finally manages to pull away even an inch, still grinding against James' hip, James still pushing right back at him. James' mouth is pink and swollen and wet, and Kendall nearly comes by looking at his face alone. "Okay, you got me," he chokes out, "Definitely too late to stop now. Do you, uh, just want to do it like this?"

Although he doesn't really relish the idea of having sticky pants and later having to face the dry-cleaners, Kendall decides easily he's willing to do just about anything to get off. James, however, shakes his head and stills both of their hips. He undoes the fastenings of his own pants and then pushes them down enough, so that when he turns over a second later, only his ass is exposed.

"Dude, no fucking way," Kendall says immediately.

James seems to know exactly what his complaints are. Their eyes meet through the mirror, and James says soothingly, "We have at least another ten minutes until even Gustavo shows up, so there is plenty of time to do this and clean up afterward. And anyway, Logan and Carlos know to cover for us."

Kendall starts to voice a totally valid concern, but James cranes his neck just far enough to kiss him quiet. "_And _I already planned for this. I'm more than ready for you," he says, his voice a little deeper than normal, and Kendall's mind kind of just blanks for a moment. He understands what James is implying, but -

Gently he drags a fingertip down James' coat, between the crack of his ass and into the - yes, yep, well-prepared opening. James moans a little at the intrusion, and Kendall moans because it's possibly one of the hottest images in Kendall's mind - James, maybe in the shower, sliding his own fingers inside of him, thinking that later he _wanted _Kendall to fuck him in a relatively public place with relatively famous people arriving in the floor below them. "You kinky bitch," he breathes against James' neck.

They haven't been having sex long enough for Kendall to be even marginally unimpressed with it, especially, he thinks, with James. Even though he's never slept with, well, anyone else, as he slides into James he thinks, _I'm never going to want more than this_. James is warm and plenty tight and fucking _bliss_, and he's kind of a slut for it, gyrating back into Kendall until they're pressed tightly together.

At first he doesn't move, letting James adjust to him and letting himself calm down a little, but there are these little _sounds_ James makes in the back of his throat, like little panting whimpers, and they are fucking irresistible. Sweat is already sticking to his nice dress shirt and pooling around his brow when Kendall says, "Please tell me you're good." He pauses, and then bites down onto the skin where James' shoulder meets his neck, not hard enough to make him bleed, although probably enough to leave a mark. Kendall kind of hopes it does.

Panting, James spreads his legs out a little further, steadies his hands pressed against the mirror, and nods.

Kendall wastes no time after that; he pulls back and then pushes in again, _hard_, and the look on James' face through the glass is fucking gorgeous, open and completely surrendered. Kendall begins to fuck James harder, with James tilting his hips back to meet every one of his thrusts, and it feels amazing, but Kendall's kind of captivated by watching James' face that reacts to every movement - his eyes drifting closed, his lips forming a soft _oh_ when his breath catches, a flush rising in his cheeks.

"Shit, you are so gorgeous," he finds himself saying, and he knows that James is well-aware he's, well, _beautiful_, in a dude sort of way. However, when Kendall's fucking him right into a mirror, and James is so clearly begging for it, it's hopeless to not point it out. Their..._relationship _has been a long time coming from sleepover handjobs in Minnesota to this second where Kendall's pushing into James over and over, while James is slowly becoming louder because he _loves _being fucked by him. So in moments like this, it's all Kendall can do to appreciate what he's got.

Through the mirror James smiles, almost shyly. but then Kendall shifts a little, his dick driving into James differently, and the smile dies, replaced by a soft, choked cry. "Oh, keep doing that. We won't be here long," he half moans, half laughs.

In reply, Kendall wraps his fist around James cock, which has been rubbing neglected against the mirror, and James arches forcibly back into him. "That kind of needs to be the plan," Kendall says breathlessly, off-handedly, beginning to jerk him quick and easy. Like James with blowjobs, this is a practice Kendall's confident in his ability - he knows just how to get James off, from just about any angle, knows just how to make him come in seconds if Kendall wants him to.

As he pumps James harder, feels him losing more and more restraint, Kendall feels himself losing his rhythm, succumbing to the moment. James is about writhing, his sounds growing a little too loud for comfort, so Kendall begins to breathe-kiss the side of his hair, hair that smells like product and hairspray and _sex_. He moves his mouth further, to James' cheek, and James meets him halfway, mouth open and hot for Kendall to slide his tongue in, to kiss him proper.

James wraps his arms back around so his fingers are deep in Kendall's hair, almost every part of him touching Kendall then. And it's after only a few more pushes that Kendall _feels _every bit of James' orgasm, the way James shudders and nearly buckles in half, the way his grip tightens almost painfully in Kendall's hair, the way his cock jerks and paints the mirror white.

Seeing him come through the mirror is easily the sexiest things Kendall has ever seen, ever, hands down, and it's only another moment before Kendall's digging his nails into James' hips probably too hard and breathing too loud as he comes, hips rutting against James, filling him.

They both sound like they've just gotten off the rink of a hockey game - Kendall feels just as worn but infinitely more satisfied. James leans heavily against him, his eyes still closed.

"We are a freaking mess, dude," is the first coherent thought Kendall's able to voice. It's true: there's come all over the mirror, James' hair is sticking up in all sorts of weird angels, and Kendall is essentially covered in a gloss of sweat. There is no doubt about what just happened in here, and yet somehow, Kendall's finding it very hard to care.

"Mmm, that was good," James says dreamily, his eyes still closed. His fingers drift to brush over Kendall's jaw, just a little caress that makes Kendall warm, in a different kind of way than sex. "Great, even. Who thought up this fantastic plan? Why, was that me? Looks like you're not the only one with ideas, Kendy."

Kendall has to laugh at that, even as he carefully pulls out. He refastens James' pants up for him, feeling somewhat bad that James is going to spend the next few hours at least a little sore and likely with Kendall's come sliding down his leg. Then again, he reasons, it _was _all James' doing, so the feeling really is slight.

When James finally looks at himself, the look on his face is priceless. Even with his lucky comb, his hair is more than unruly, it's downright debauched. Kendall manages to make his at least presentable for _himself_, but James is kind of a lost cause.

It's terrible, honestly, because either Griffin or Gustavo or (probably) both are going to be suspicious, and even people who have never seen them before will probably take one glance at them and hide their smirks behind their drinks, but Kendall doesn't care _at all_.

James looks about ready to chew his bottom lip off, though, so Kendall snags his hand, pulling him away from his reflection. "Calm down, you look fine," he reassures him, and then kisses him lightly, like a thank you or I love you, he doesn't quite know yet, but James just sighs into his mouth, smiling, and Kendall smiles back.

There's a knock at the door, and they leap back from each other like they've been shocked. It's Logan, thank god, who says somewhat nervously from outside, "Guys, Kelly's searching everywhere for you two. You might want to hurry, um, _it_...up."

Kendall opens the door, laughing, and Logan raises a what-am-I-going-to-do eyebrow at him. Logan's smart and his best friend, so Kendall doesn't have to say anything; he just pats Logan on the back and heads downstairs, sated and unworried, knowing James is right behind him.

Like he always says, what's life without a little risk?

It's only the next day when Kelly calls him with a hesitant, "Do you know if anyone was in the second-floor bathroom? Griffin is flipping out," that Kendall remembers they forgot to clean the mirror.


End file.
